


Blood vengeance

by Cirilla9



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Assassination Plot(s), Dialogue Heavy, Dubious Morality, FrostIron - Freeform, Heroes to Villains, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, M/M, Minor Character Death, Poor Life Choices, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 14:19:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16683229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/pseuds/Cirilla9
Summary: Tony making a rash decision, as usual; Loki being seductive and manipulative, as usual.





	Blood vengeance

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this bc Tony was soo pooor in that scene after watching his parents dies, beaten up, on his knees, in a damaged suit that he deserves some consolation. I should feel sorry for him and in a way, I did, but I was just too insanely happy about Stucky in that moment to sympathize with Iron Man. I should feel the urge to go there and hug my fav Avenger but I am terrible person and all I could think of was: you have every right to be mad Tony but hands off my Bucky.
> 
> So here is someone that may console Tony instead:

Tony poured himself yet another drink. He was getting drunk but he didn’t care. It was the best option that came to his mind to spent the time, to sink his problems, to try stop thinking about all the shit that had happened.

Rhodey laid in a bed in one of his bedrooms few stores below. The doctors said he needs rest, to gather his strength. They also said he was paralyzed. He won’t probably walk ever again. And all of this because Tony dragged him into it, because he had Tony’s suit and was helping Tony to fight with enhanced, stronger than him guys. And it was all Tony’s fault. He should have laid there instead of his best friend.

He reached for his phone to distract himself but after a while he caught himself staring on Pepper’s contact. He put the phone away. It was tempting to call her but he knew it would be a bad idea. She wanted to rest from him, to give them some time separate from each other. She needed to think it all up thoroughly, that’s what she said. Calling her only to burden her in his own problems, to demand she will clear the mess he’d done like she did so many times before… it wouldn’t do any good for their relationship. Because Tony hoped it still was a relationship.

Tony would talk with somebody, anybody not to tell them about his problems but at least to have some company, to not be alone with all of this that was crashing his chest with its weight and making it hard to breathe. It hurt almost like once the pieces of shrapnel around his heart did. But his friends were in jail, thanks to him. Because he betrayed them with this signature. But his intentions were good, god damn it! They could just retire and everyone would be happy. Maybe he should know better. Though he didn’t expect they’ll land in jail. And some creepy underwater box to that. He suspected it may end in confinement but he imagined it would be more like the house arrest he put on Wanda. The girl seemed awfully withdrawn in that cell in that straitjacket. Inside she was probably mad at him. They all were. Hawkeye wouldn’t even look at him as he was talking to him. Geez, couldn’t the daddy had stayed home with his children? Falcon was least angry, being eaten by guilt about Rhodey like Tony himself.

Thinking of Sam led straight to thinking of Steve. Tony gulped down the alcohol. The liquid burned his throat but the feeling of betrayal burned more hotly in his chest. The man knew, he fucking knew and didn’t say a word about it. He talked to Tony every day, smiled at him, joked with him, acted like a fucking friend all the time knowing his parents didn’t die in the accident.

Tony brushed at his eyes angrily as he felt them watering again. He stood up and went for another drink. The bottle was empty so he walked to the bar for the next one. That didn’t do much to stop his brain from replaying over and over his parents death. Lonely road. Crashed car. His father injured on his knees with shocked expression, “sergeant Barnes?”. Punches with metal arm. His mother in the car wreck. Blood on her temple. Conscious, scared eyes. Barnes’ hand tightening slowly yet relentlessly on her neck.

“Fuck,” muttered Tony, swallowing the content of his glass in one gulp.

“Humans. Always the same thing on their mind. No wonder you have a problem with overpopulation.”

Tony froze hearing that smug voice. Did his PTSD flashbacks taken on a new form? Not only images but sounds also? He slowly turned around and there he stood, tall, dark, with the haughty attitude.

“Hello, Tony,” Loki said.

“Shouldn’t you be in some cozy cell in Asgaard?” Tony had decidedly enough villains for one day.

“How rude,” commented the God of Chaos, never ceasing his smile, “last time I was here you offered me a drink. Has your hospitality diminished so much?”

Tony’s mind flooded with thoughts, slightly slower than usual because of the amount of drunk alcohol. F.R.I.D.A.Y. should have called help already. But the AI should have warned him as well of the presence of his enemy in the tower. If it failed to rise an alarm, something was wrong with it. Something was always wrong with it. Damn, he really missed J.A.R.V.I.S.

“I’m afraid I run off the ambrosia,” he said to the god after a short pause. “Mead or beer?”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Not everyone from Asgaard is some savage from Vikings era. Though Thor must have given you another impression so I suppose I can’t blame you. Whiskey.”

Tony did pour him a glass of whiskey, mostly to give himself some time as he frantically tried to make some contact with his new AI. But none of the devices at hand was able to reach it. It was almost as if someone hacked- Tony glanced suspiciously up at the intruder in his house that made himself at home already, reclining on the sofa before a small table, waiting to be served a required drink.

The audacity was irksome but not as bloodcurdling or infuriating as Tony’s last few days.

Finally he decided he can’t put off approaching the god any longer without getting overly suspicious. How long could one, even sloshed, pour a glass of alcohol? He left an outgoing signal for help, hoping that the AI would pick it up once it would kick in working again.

Without his suit, without any of his electronic toys, he was at some disadvantage here. But he was hardly powerless, he was Tony Stark after all and he would find a way out of it. Talk himself out of it or use his personal charm, these things never failed him.

He put the glass with a heavy thud on the table before Loki and took the opposite seat himself, trying to look confident.

“Relax, Man of Iron.” Strange that the same nickname in Thor’s mouth sounded dignified, and when Loki imitated his brother’s tone, it sounded… derisively. “I’m not here to defenestrate you. I do not have any hostile intentions toward you. In fact, I came to offer my services.”

“Nah, I do not want any services from you. I get it you may feel some urge to prove yourself after my last comment on the subject of potency but, believe me, I don’t share your desires.”

Loki snickered as if, despite himself, he was genuinely amused.

“If I was here for that, do you really think your lack of consent would matter to me?”

And ouch, Tony really hoped that suggestive glint in these green eyes was fake. Loki played him a while longer, reaching for his glass casually, taking a prolonged sip from it, all the time watching Tony above the glass edge.

“But no, not that either,” Tony barely prevented himself from exhaling with relief as Loki took on a businesslike attitude again, that type of businesslike the God of Mischief displayed when there was some mischief involved in his plans. “I’m here to give you a chance of vengeance. What would you say if I’d kill Winter Soldier for you?”

Tony felt all the blood flood off his face along with any traces of a smirk. That was like a punch. Not like he didn't want it... hours ago he was trying to do it with his own hands, with the very intention of making that try successful. And that was what scared him the most. He wanted what Loki was offering, that was exactly what his heart craved for. It was like he was... no less evil than the being before him.

He nearly missed the obvious catch, so lost in emotions he was, but as his genius mind screaming finally got to him, he asked:

“And what would you want in return for that, as you called it, small service?”

“Oh, very little. Just a trivial something I lost last time I was here. And I can promise you I won’t use it against your precious Earth this time.”

“I can find no words to express how much I don't believe your promises, God of Lies.”

To his surprise Loki seemed... dismayed, almost hurt by that. But that could be a show of course.

“Believe in the fact then that my plans have grown bigger than weak, pathetic Midgard.”

“That weak, pathetic Midgard defeated you last time.”

Loki was at him before he even finished speaking, a hand closed around his neck in an unpleasant reminder of their fight. The madman’s face appeared too close to his and in the green eyes flashed murderous, rather than sexual, intent.

“Let us not speak about these events or I may feel inclined to remind you who won the fight between the two of us and who is stronger in our duo.”

“Okay, okay,” Tony wheezed, raising his hands up.

The Asgaardian tossed him like a rag doll and Tony didn't like to feel that frail least bit. Where the hell was F.R.I.D.A.Y., it should call some help already... but then, actually, if Tony was, purely supposedly, to consider Loki’s offer...

“What trivial something?”

Loki smiled, approvingly and it felt wrong to be an object of the villain’s approval and especially wrong felt the minute rush of pride at that.

“See, I knew you can ask the right questions. I want my scepter back.”

Tony smiled at him just as falsely as he saw Loki doing countless of times.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you with your magic wand. I don’t know where it is.”

The whiskey glass Loki held covered with white frost.

“Don’t try my patience, Stark. We both know it’s here, in your tower.”

“Amazing trick with ice, wow, you could have your drinks cold even on Copacabana,” Tony stopped that line abruptly as he saw the tell-telling glint in the god’s eyes. He coughed and moved on to the main topic of their talk. “But I think you’re bluffing. If it was here, why not steal it just as easily as you broke in?”

“I don’t need to _steal_ it. It is my property, I have a full right to demand it being returned to me. But since I like you, I’m here asking you politely and even offering a buyout prize, knowing how much you like all such devices. So appreciate my kindness and become a bit more cooperative before I decide to use force, take what is mine and give you nothing in return.”

Tony was sure the so called kindness was the result of not being able to hack into his underground levels where his workplaces were, where he worked, among others, on Loki’s scepter implored from the SHIELD.

Nevertheless Loki’s speech felt disquietingly reasonable and, what was alarming, very tempting. Trading magic stick for making his parents’ murderer pay for his crime… Besides, to say to do something was one thing, to actually do it - another.

“And if I were to agree, you’d murder him.” Tony said slowly.

“Murder. Such strong word. Murder is killing a scientist and his helpless wife and covering it as a car accident. What I offer is bringing justice.”

That played at Tony’s emotions. Strongly. Too strongly. He didn't like being played. And a little voice appeared, maybe his conscience though it sounded suspiciously like Steve’s Brooklyn accent.

“I don't know, man, we have justice system now, with impartial judges and all.”

Loki scoffed.

“This is what you call justice? How weak Midgardians have grown. In the times when you worshipped us as your rightful gods the law of vengeance was fully legit and in use. It was a crime to not pursue the murderer of your kin.”

“Yeah, well, it's called civilization. We developed.”

“Oh? And aren't you in a group called ‘Avengers’ as you said? Last time you gave me that speech about avenging the Earth. I had an impression what I just described were the values you follow. Isn't that so, avenger?”

Tony stared at him, wondering where his life had gone wrong that the only person that seemed to understand him was his enemy and furthermore, that it was the only person talking with him now, when he most needed it and when everyone else abandoned him.

“Allow me to add, if you don’t do something about it, no one would. Your parents’ assassin would walk freely. They may want to arrest him, there may be wanted posters but you know, as well as I do, they aren’t going to succeed in capturing him when that blond haired self-righteous fool is protecting his precious friend from the law. And even if, by some miracle, they’d arrest him, how much is he going to get? Few years in prison? Or just in custody because he wasn’t himself at that time? Strange that he has memories from it then, don’t you think? Is that enough for killing so many persons? Is that suitable punishment for someone who murdered in cold blood both of your parents?”

“Of course it’s not!” Tony exclaimed as Loki’s words brought the scene from the video before his eyes as clearly as if the God of Lies wrought a spell of these events around them. _His mother’s scream, his father’s shock and Barnes’ blank, closed off face without a trace of emotion, without a hint of remorse._

“What did he deserve for slaying them, for making you an orphan? What would be proportional punishment?”

Tony’s voice tasted harsh on his own tongue as he said:

“Death.”

“Do you want me to execute that verdict?”

Green eyes gawked at him in anticipation.

“Yes,” Tony whispered.

Loki smiled in an ominous way.

“Then fetch me my scepter.”

Tony felt like entranced when he lead the God of Chaos toward his basement. His mind suggested he was doing something incredibly stupid that he was going to regret later but his emotions took over. And it felt _good_ to hand Loki over the impressive spear, their fingers brushing on the handle, Jotunheim cool and Midgardian warm. It felt like passing the hangman the ax for executions.

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was only hours later when Tony came to himself more or less and sobered fairly that he begun to question what he’d done; the morality of it all, the rightness of his recent choices. And he came to a devastating conclusion that he was wrong. That he done the exact thing he wanted to avert by putting Avengers under the government control. Because if they chose their targets themselves, what differed them from the bad guys?

He grabbed the Starkphone and choose the number frantically. “C’mon, Steve, pick it up. Pick up, you naïve museum relic.”

But as the signals went on unanswered, the doors to his living hall opened once more, revealing the tall silhouette of a God of Mischief, wearing dark clothes and a maniacal grin.

“O, fuck,” Tony said eloquently, eyeing the still-dripping blood cut-off head in the god’s hand, held by the hair of convenient length.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment, criticize, hate me. Just talk to me :)
> 
> [Here is kind of a sequel if you're interested](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788763)


End file.
